Miracle
by PickledMirror
Summary: Coffee shop AU! Phil is a barista at a small cafe in London, and he has always believed in miracles. But he's never witnessed or experienced a miracle himself. Until one day, when Dan walks into his coffee shop. Is Dan his miracle? Rated T for occasional swearing. ***ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic. Feel free to review, follow and favorite! Also, I don't live in the UK, so I am so sorry if I get things wrong. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

Phil's POV

I have believed in miracles ever since I was young. Especially in the love department. Miracles were very real, and they could happen any second of any day. That is what I have always kept in my mind. I believed every word. However, as I was wiping down the espresso machine on a Thursday evening, I began to question myself.

When had I ever witnessed a miracle in real life? I _was_ accepted into the University of York four years ago, and I had graduated with plenty credentials. But surely that didn't count for a miracle. It was a mixture of luck and brilliance on my part. Right? And it's not like I've ever even fallen in love. But isn't love the greatest miracle of all? How could I have such strong faith in something that I've never experienced myself?

I shook my head. I could contemplate the probability of the existence of miracles after my shift ended. Ah, yes. My shift. I was cleaning up behind the counter at The Grinder, the café I was a barista at. Where I forced myself to work nearly nonstop. For nine pounds an hour, though, it was an okay job. More than okay, actually. Multiple times I have tried convincing Mia, my boss and the owner of The Grinder, that she didn't need to pay me above minimum wage. I told her I could just get another job. She usually rolled her eyes and swatted me away, grumbling goodheartedly about how I shouldn't be complaining.

Does that count as a miracle? Probably not. It was just good pay for a 22 year old. But if that was just narrowed down to plain old luck, does that mean everything was just luck? Everything I had believed were miracles was just luck?

The clang of the bell on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I plastered on a fake smile and stood up straight, ready to talk to the customer. I opened my mouth to greet the young man, but my breath caught in my throat. Standing in front of the entrance was, quite possibly, one of the most attractive people I have ever seen in my entire life.

Brown hair swept to the side, similar to my straightened fringe but opposite, paired with rich brown eyes. He was young, maybe a few years younger than me. He had a tall, thin frame, clothed in nearly all black. He wore an unzipped dark gray sweater over a black tee shirt and black skinny jeans, along with worn black shoes. White earbuds dangled around his neck, plugged into something in his pocket. He glanced around the café before stepping forward. _Damn._

I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello! Welcome to the Grinder!" I called out cheerily to the young man as he wandered around the shop, looking at the paintings done by some local artists. The boy turned around, and I was immediately greeted by a stunning smile. And dimples. Holy hell. Those dimples were adorable. I could feel my face heating up. I tried to return the smile and hoped he wouldn't notice my flushed cheeks.

I couldn't help but watch as he examined nearly every painting and photograph on the wall. He was incredibly tall, however not quite as tall as me. I knew I was staring, but he was truly fascinating to watch. I didn't have a clue why, he just was. A voice in my head whispered that yes, I did know why. Maybe I had a crush on this particular customer. Surprised at the boldness of my own thoughts, I squashed down the voice in hope of silencing it, and tore my gaze away from the man.

I glanced at the window, and at the clock hanging above it. I would be closing half past seven, but it appeared I still had two hours to go. For once, it had been a sunny day in London, and the last of the rare golden rays shone through the window. It was quite a pretty day, and it was a shame that I had been stuck inside.

The slight creaking of the floorboards brought my attention over to the customer, who was now walking towards the counter. I took a deep breath. He was just a customer.

"Hello," I said simply, and immediately cringed at my awkwardness. The young man just quietly laughed and gave me that gorgeous dimpled smile again. "What would you like?" I asked him, knowing I was blushing.

His eyes slid over the menu behind my head, before replying, "Hi, uh, I'd like the latte macchiato. With caramel." He said, his voice bordering on shy. Pale crimson was creeping in on his cheeks.

I grinned at his order choice as he handed over the payment. After tucking the money into the cash register, I grabbed a cup for the drink.

"A name for the order?" I asked, uncapping a Sharpie. When he didn't reply, I glanced up quizzically. He was staring at me, his already pink cheeks darkening. I raised an eyebrow, and his eyes widened, like he hadn't realized what he was doing.

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "Sorry, what was that?" I smirked and repeated the question. He exhaled loudly, as though he had been nervously holding his breath. He smiled embarrassingly.

"Dan." He said quickly. I couldn't help but smile at him and his sudden awkwardness. Maybe he didn't get caught staring often.

I began to make his drink, grinning to myself nearly the entire time. I glanced up only two or three times to find the young man, who I now knew as Dan, watching me. I knew I was blushing.

I was adding the caramel to the latte when an idea struck me. A horrible idea, really. But I couldn't help it. Braving my doubts about said horrible idea, I grabbed the Sharpie and leaned over the counter. I quickly scrawled on my number and straightened up, tossing the marker to the side.

I handed the drink over to Dan, making sure my messy handwriting was facing myself. I gave him a shy smile and cast my eyes downward as his fingers brushed mine. I knew I was almost beet red. _What are you, a fourteen year old girl?_ I scolded myself. I murmured the typical nice-day spiel and began to turn away from Dan, but he spoke up.

"Hey, thanks, but, uh, Phil?" He began. He was almost pinker than I probably was. I balked at how he knew my name before dumbly realizing I was wearing my name tag. I focused back on what Dan was saying. "I was just wondering why you were, you know, grinning so much. About my drink?" His brown eyes were wide and bright.

I stared at him in shock for a few seconds before I began to laugh. "That drink, with the caramel, it's just like the one at Starbucks. The Grinder is just a tiny café! And then you came in and ordered a version of my favorite drink! It all seemed so amusing to me." I told him with a grin. He grinned back, both of our embarrassment fading away.

"Hey, it's mine too! Guess great minds think alike, huh?" Dan said to me, smiling. His bright eyes were swimming with emotions that I couldn't read. I wonder what he thought about my eyes. Were they as gorgeously shiny as his? As deep and curious as his? Not to mention the way he was smiling at me. That dimple would seriously be the death of me. We must've stood there for ages, smiling at each other like fools, but the sound of the door clanging against the wall brought us back to reality.

"Oh my god! I am _so_ sorry! The door, jeez, these hinges are pretty loose, huh?" A teenage girl with pink hair called over to me. Two teen boys walked in behind her. "Sorry, sorry, I don't think anything is, like, broken! Sorry!"

I grimaced at her obnoxious voice and disruptive attitude, but waved my hand in a gesture that was supposed to mean it was no big deal. But that moment with Dan was over. Dan just gave me a tight smile and muttered a thanks for the coffee. I gave him a tired smile in return, and then he was walking out the door. The three teenagers headed towards the register. One of the boys was muttering about the girl's clumsiness, something I could actually relate to.

As I taking the pink haired girl's order, I glanced out the window at Dan. He had stopped a few steps out of the door and was now staring down at his cup. He looked up and we made brief eye contact through the window. I decided to do something very un-Phil-like. I smirked at him and turned away, focusing on the girl's drink.

But doubt was gnawing at my insides, eating away at my meager confidence. Just because I was certainly not straight, doesn't mean any of the cute boys I took interest in weren't. What have I done?! Dan was probably disgusted with me. He was probably going to go home and rant to his _girlfriend_ about the totally gay barista who had tried hitting on him when he was out getting coffee. He was probably never going to come back to this coffee shop. I'll probably never see him again! This is exactly why I should've stay quiet about my sexuality. I don't want to relive high school.

It was then I decided I would not think about Dan until I closed. Then I could scream out my problems into a pillow. But for now? I needed to focus on work.

 _Two hours later._

I shrugged on my jacket as I locked the door to the small coffee shop. By now, the sunshine was gone. It was late July, but it was cold this year, and I wasn't going to take any chances.

I pulled out my phone as I began the short walk down the road to my flat. I turned it on, just to look at the time, and nearly dropped it in surprise. Two messages were blinking up at me. With shaky fingers, I clicked.

 _Unknown number: hey. this is dan. caramel macchiato guy from earlier._

 _Unknown number: i think your hair is really fucking cute._

Oh my god. What have I gotten myself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I forgot to do this in the last chapter; the word count in Chapter One of Miracle is 1,781. And now I'm back with Chapter Two! Feel free to review, follow, and favorite, and I hope you enjoy!**

Dan's POV

When the incredibly cute barista, Phil, handed me my macchiato, I never would've expected to see his phone number and a smiley face scribbled across the side of the cup.

It shouldn't have surprised me, really, given the fact he had been blushing more than a school girl receiving her first kiss, but he had been so awkward and jittery. He did not seem like the type to hand out his number to random strangers. The whole thing had been rather unexpectedly bold of Phil. However, if the smiley face was right about anything, it would be that Phil was interested.

But now, as I stared numbly down at the two messages I had rashly sent a few hours before, I feared Phil was regretting his decision. The texts were delivered, sure, but as for a response? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I read and reread the messages, sitting stiffy on the end of my bed. Distressed thoughts were flooding my brain. Had I been too forward? Had the hair comment been too much? Was I more interested than Phil was? The saddening ideas continued to seep into my mind, pulling me into myself and my swirling thoughts. So much so, in fact, that I didn't even notice my phone vibrate with a new message in my hand.

I fell back into my bed, tossing my phone aside. I tried to rationalize Phil's silence. Perhaps he was still working. That idea I immediately shot down. It was half past ten, long after the coffee shop would've closed. Or maybe he was just tired! After all, it was a weekday. He probably had to work on Friday.

Satisfied at coming to this conclusion, I adjusted myself into a more comfortable position on my bed. It was much earlier than I usually dozed off at, the quiet of the night and the dark of my room gave me the perfect setting to think. No music tonight, no video games. Just me, myself, and my thoughts.

But as I stared at my ceiling in the dark, thoughts of a certain barista continued to invade my mind. I briefly closed my eyes, hoping to rid myself of the image of Phil, but all I could see were the intense blue eyes of the older boy. No, I corrected myself. Not a boy. A young man! A young man with gorgeous eyes and an actual job. I quickly opened my eyes, and focused on the shadow of the ceiling light. But he was still there. Jesus. I was obsessed. With an older guy I've never even had a full conversation with and probably way out of my league.

A horrific buzzing noise sounded throughout my bedroom, and I shot up from comfy position. What was in my room? I glanced around fervently. Nothing. There was nothing. I slowly uncurled my fingers from where they had clenched my duvet. It was then, as I peered around my room, I noticed the glowing screen of my mobile. To say I lunged for it was an understatement. I scrambled to unlock the screen before breathlessly reading the new message. How had I missed two texts from Phil?

 _Phil: Ha, thanks_

 _Phil: You busy tomorrow? Want to grab lunch?_

What the actual hell. Did Phil just ask me out on a date? With trembling fingers, I typed out a response that practically dripped confidence, despite how my insides felt like they were melting.

 _Dan: like a date? i'm free all day ;)_

Mustering all the courage I could find in my pale body, I hit send, and released a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. Now all I had to do was wait for a reply. Jesus Christ. What the hell was I doing?

Hardly a minute had gone by before a new message popped up.

 _Phil: Only if you'd like it to be! Want to meet up at that little red café near The Grinder around noon?_

I hastily typed up a response of, "sounds great" before powering off my phone and scrambling underneath my sheets. If I continued that conversation, I would never be able to sleep. I took a few deep breaths, evening out my breathing. I had a date with Phil. How had that even happened? He had seemed so awkward and adorable this morning. Now, he was cheery and confident. I pondered this until I made another sudden realization. What would I even wear?

I pushed back my covers and practically sprang out of my bed. I flicked on my light, wincing at the brightness. I glanced around the simple room. A few Muse and MCR posters were plastered to the wall above my bed, and there was a framed picture of myself and a couple friends from graduation hanging precariously over my small nightstand. There wasn't a door to my closet, so my jumbled mess of black and gray clothing was visible to anyone in my room. The rest, however, was damn near spotless. The only other furniture in the room was a dresser, a small desk, and a small piano. A few knickknacks littered the surface area of my dresser, but each and every one had a specific place. My desk held my PC and a mug full of pens. What an exciting room.

I hurriedly walked over to my closet. I wanted Phil to see me for who I was, of course, but I didn't want to seem juvenile and immature. Digging through my tee shirts, I yank out multiple options hastily, before realizing I would have plenty of time the next day.

I stood quickly and hurried out of the closet, nearly walking into the doorframe. I flicked of the light, and stumbled back into my bed. Yanking my bedding up around me, I couldn't help but think of Phil, and wonder what he would be wearing. When I had seen him earlier, he was wearing a brown tee shirt with The Grinder's logo, and what looked like dark blue skinny jeans underneath his green apron. I wasn't sure why he wouldn't want to eat at The Grinder, but maybe it would be weird to go on a date at your place of work. It's not like I would know that sort of thing.

I hoped he wouldn't be wearing his work uniform. Don't get me wrong, he looked flawless, but I wondered what his style sense was outside of work. With his ivory skin and brilliant steel blue eyes, he had a sort of brightness about him. He had honestly been breathtaking.

I suddenly seemed to comprehend what exactly I was thinking and could feel myself flush. I then began to wonder about him. So maybe he was bi, like me, which is why he said it could be a date, but I'm honestly not sure. Maybe he wasn't even that interested. After all, he didn't say it was a date right off the bat. Maybe he had just said that to be friendly! Oh no. Shit shit shit. What have I done?!

The more rational side of my brain convinced me that people don't usually invite people out on possible dates because they just want to be friends. But Phil was older and probably knew what he was doing. I personally had no idea what I had gotten myself into. Was I crazy to hope Phil was romantically interested in me?

I knew I was freaking out for no reason, but when a guy who's as handsome as Phil invites you out for lunch, it's hard to stay calm. I wondered why he had written his number on my cup. What had attracted him? He was literally sunshine, radiating optimism, whilst I was a walking and breathing storm cloud. I saw myself in the mirror every day, I knew what kind of music I liked. I knew what my hair and style said about me. I knew I practically had a dark aura about me, if that was such a thing. Maybe it's a yin and yang thing, a small voice whispered in my head. It sounded suspiciously like Phil's northern accent.

Yin and yang, I thought. I could live with that. Maybe it's the whole opposites attract thing, I begin to think, but shut that down immediately. I didn't want us to be opposites. I wanted common ground, similarities. I groaned and shifted in my bed, turning over. Yin and yang. That's right. Yin and yang.

 **Word Count: 1,453**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Back at it with Chapter 3!**

Phil's POV

It was 11:49 and I was terrified out of my mind. I was standing in front of the cute café a few shops down from the Grinder, which was painted a brilliant shade of red to pop among the typically dull buildings of London. If it had been any ordinary day, I would've admired how it matched the telephone boxes and buses of London _perfectly_. If it had been any ordinary day, I would've already eaten and would be on my way back to work to pick up an extra shift. If it had been any ordinary day, I wouldn't have even been there in the first place. But it was no ordinary day.

When I had written my number on Dan's drink, I never expected a date to come out of it, especially one initiated by me. Though it _had_ been shocking when Dan asked, incredibly flirtatiously might I add, if it was like a date. I knew my response had been awkward, but I hadn't any idea of what to say!

I nervously scrubbed my hand through my dark hair and tried to take a few calming breaths. I flicked on my phone to look at the time for what seemed like the hundredth time, but only three minutes had passed since I last checked. This was excruciating.

It had been my fault for arriving early and causing myself this agony, but I couldn't risk the chance of being late. As much as I hated waiting, though, jolts of excitement shot through my body. I hadn't been on a date in _ages_ , and especially not with someone as attractive as Dan.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, attempting to look casual to passerby. Despite the mid-summer temperatures, I had opted for some skinny jeans. They were a simple, ordinary blue, but I hoped Dan would think up some ridiculously cheesy line about how they matched my eyes.

Grinning to myself at the thought of Dan complimenting me, I leaned against the building. My smile quickly faded, however, when a girl with poker straight caramel hair slowed down walking past me.

I glanced up at her, and immediately looked away. She stared intensely at me, completely motionless. Her pale blue eyes were noticeable, yes, but they unsettled me.

Suddenly, the girl was standing in front of me. She couldn't be more than a year younger than me and was definitely shorter than me, but had a determination about her that made me feel inept and small. She flashed a dazzling smile with bright white teeth and leaned against the café wall next to me.

"Hey," She said casually, her voice clear and American. She grinned big, which reminded me of a piranha with those bright teeth. How sharp are your canines actually supposed to be? "You got yourself a girlfriend?"

"Um." Was my moronic reply. I peeled myself away from the building, pulling my hands out of my pockets, and plucked up the tiny bit of courage I had. "They're not really my type."

This puzzled the girl, and she scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair again, adjusting my fringe. I gave her a tight smile and shrugged, ever so slightly.

My statement must've suddenly clicked with the female, and she gasped, realizing what I had said. And she smiled at me again.

Then it was my turn to be confused, because her grin no longer represented that of an omnivorous fish, but instead a glorious smile rich with glee. This was scarier than the other one!

"I'm Macy! So tell me, it's a boyfriend, then?" she asked, unable to contain her excitement. I blushed and smiled a small smile, staring at my shoes. She squealed at my non-answer and launched herself into an excited rant about how _love is love_ and such, while I just stood there awkwardly.

Finally, after a minute or two, Macy seemed to bore herself and asked me, "What's the name of your beloved?"

Heat was creeping up my neck and I could hardly say something without an embarrassed stutter.

"He's not actually my boyfriend," I explained, wondering at the same time why I was telling her this. "I'm actually waiting for him right now. First date and all."

Macy gasped dramatically. "I have to go, then! I cannot interrupt this beautiful love story that is about to take place!" she said, practically shouting. "I need all the details on the date and the boy and everything afterwards! Meet me at that coffee shop down the street, okay? The Grinder? Funny name for a coffee shop, you know. But hey, what's your name?"

I was hardly keeping up with Macy's fast paced talking, but I managed to say my name before she nodded and began to jog away, calling good luck wishes behind her. I turned away, and I didn't notice her go into the very café we had been standing outside of.

I shook my head and leaned against the building once again, wondering what that was all about. I reckoned if my life was a story, that collection of moments would have been just a filler, a boring chapter of nothingness.

Upon thinking this, I decided that this lunch date would not be a filler. Dan would not be a supporting character in the book of my life. Filled with sudden and new determination, I smiled, and began to look around again in search for said brunet.

Glancing down at my phone again, I saw that it was a minute from noon. Biting my lip, I glanced around, and my eyes settled on a tall boy with curly brown hair (curly? That's new…) and an outfit mixed with a variety of dark colors heading towards me. I beamed wide, and somehow managed catching his eye. His dimpled smile made an appearance immediately, and I felt the anxiety balloon I had worried myself into pop and deflate.  
There he was, the boy who, for some reason yet unknown, got me thinking about miracles again.

 _Dan_.

Dan's POV

Jesus _Christ_. Even from a distance that boy could catch the eye of the most unattainable celebrity and the rest of the world along with them. Or, in my case, an annoying kid with an emo haircut and a ridiculous crush.

Apparently my worries about what I would wear had been spot on last night, as I had woken up just half an hour before when I was supposed to meet Phil. With no time to straighten my hair, I had tried to flatten down my curls with a bit of water as I yanked on an assortment of gray and black clothing. Bad, _bad_ decision, Daniel. Water plus hobbit hair equals poodle. Not exactly first date material.

I was frazzled and anxious and one hundred percent _freaking the hell out_ _about this date_ , but I somehow managed to get to the café in one piece by noon. Or so I thought.

I strode towards Phil, hoping I looked as confident as I was pretending to be inside my head. Phil's smile grew as I drew closer to him. He was wearing navy colored skinny jeans and a pale green shirt. I grinned, admiring how the trousers were bland and boring compared to the brilliance of his blue eyes. Eyes that were staring right at me, just a few feet away.

"Hi," I said softly upon reaching him. He didn't respond and instead reached up to run his hand through my hair. I immediately flushed, red creeping up my neck, but stayed silent and still as he toyed with the curls. _What the hell was going on?!_ He looked at my hair in awe as he pulled his hand away, then grinned at me.

"Food?" he asked enthusiastically, not even saying a greeting. I nodded and began to laugh, causing him to giggle a bit too. "You were late." He added, tone lighthearted, as we headed towards the entrance of the café. I grimaced as pushed open the door, which must've looked pretty funny, because he began to laugh again.

We had just entered the café when a horridly familiar and dramatic voice cut across the din of the slightly packed café.

"Dan?!" the girl squealed, fawn colored hair flying. I groaned, immediately regretting my life.

"Um, Dan?" Phil began, his hand coming to rest on my arm. "Who's that?" he sounded concerned. I sighed, shaking my head.

"That's my ex-girlfriend. Macy."

 **Ooh drama! Not at all planned, but fun to write. Sorry/not sorry about this "cliffhanger" but I hope you all liked this!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! Another chapter of Miracle! Bit of a short filler, but I hope you all enjoy!**

Phil's POV

"Phil?!" Macy next exclaimed. She jogged the short distance to us. Dan frowned. I snatched my hand away from Dan and shoved both hands in my pockets, attempting to avoid her gaze. Macy threw out her arms in an exclamation of surprise, as though she had no idea what I was doing there.

"Phil!" she said again. "I didn't know this was the date you were telling me about!" She said, somehow yanking me into a tight hug and pushing me away in the span of three seconds. I had only just met the girl and she was already hugging me. Why did I always get stuck meeting the crazy people?

"You guys _know each other_?" Dan asked incredulously. I shrugged.

"Yes?" I didn't mean it to sound like a question, but both Dan and Macy shot me disapproving glances. Macy then smiled, almost like that sharp-toothed fish smile I recognized from earlier. Dan's frown deepened.

"Now we don't need to have that impromptu meeting at that coffee shop, do we?" Macy asked brightly. It wasn't really a question. I shrugged, and Dan stared at me in shock.

"What the hell?" Dan asked, confused as anything. Macy rolled her eyes, almost affectionately, and patted his chest.

"I ran into Philip here waiting outside here. I was coming in grab a muffin or something and this boy right here was waiting for a date. I, of course, wanted to make a new friend and hear 'bout all his boy drama, so we were going to have a nice little meetup afterwards!" Macy explained, bouncing a little. I wondered how she was just so _chill_. Well, correction: Macy was the _exact opposite_ of chill. I just didn't think most girls were this comfortable around their boyfriend's new date.

"Your name _is_ Philip, though, right?" Macy asked me, her voice casual and questioning. I just nodded, and an almost _tense_ stillness fell upon us. Well, tense for Dan, mainly just awkward for me.

"So, uh, what's the story with you guys?" I asked awkwardly, breaking the silence that had overcome the three of us once Macy closed her mouth. Macy grinned; Dan rolled his eyes.

"We dated, what, six months ago? Yes, six months. Anyways, so we were a gorgeous couple, a mix of America and Britain and real great looks, and then Danny was suddenly explaining to me how he was interested in boys too and, I mean, _come on_! Can you blame him? I mean, boys are just so precious! So I was accepting and great about it and all, but Daniel just wanted nothing to do with me anymore. And so then we broke up and I went back to the States for a bit and then bummed around London for a bit and here we are!" Macy was breathless. I stared at her, hardly having been able to keep up with her fast voice. I glanced over at Dan, who looked humiliated and also irritated.

"I guess you have a thing for blue eyes," I said lightly to him. Dan's eyes flickered over to mine, and a bit of his annoyance seemed to fade away. I smiled as his expression softened.

Our little moment was interrupted by Macy, who was smiling and bouncing and clapping her hands. Actually _clapping_ her _hands_.

"Well, I hate disrupting lunch, and you guys are just oh-so-cute so I'll be going along then! See you guys later!" Macy announced, before winking at me and flouncing away. Dan and I awkwardly stayed put until the door chimed and shut behind her. Both Dan and I let out breaths of relief. Macy seemed to be a fun girl, but this was, after all, a date. I smiled softly at Dan, who was running a hand through his curled hair. I wondered what had prompted the change in hairstyle

" _Fucking finally_ ," Dan muttered under his breath. I raised a brow. He looked at me before flitting his eyes around. "Do you still want lunch?" He asked. His worry about my response was clear in his voice.

"Of course!" I replied brightly, shaking off the awkwardness of the previous three minutes. "I'm starved!" Dan grinned at me, clearly amused with my attempt to brush off the situation. Maybe I was laying it on a little thick, but this was our very first date and I wanted it to go well. I was determined not to let anything else get in the way.

Dan's POV

Maybe the date would've been better if I had woken up earlier. Maybe the date would've been better if we had picked a different place to eat. Maybe the date would've been better if Macy hadn't shown up, or I had picked my clothing the night before like I wanted to do all along, or if we'd have had a dinner date like normal people. But things don't work out for me. _Ever._

I was hoping, however, that the date with Phil _would_ work out. Despite everything that had happened, I was oddly optimistic. Apparently, so was Phil. His smile was bright and his voice was cheery as he replied to the man who came up to seat us. Everything was hazy as we were led to a small table for two towards the back of the eatery. I couldn't focus on anything besides Phil. What the hell was going on with me?

"Dan?" Phil's voice snapped me of my thoughts. I shook my head and glanced around. The host was standing next to me awkwardly, and Phil was stopped midway to his seat. "Are you going to sit?" he asked, concern creeping into his rich voice. I smiled embarrassedly, murmuring a quick apology to the attendant.

"Sorry, just got a little distracted," I muttered to Phil. He nodded a bit and smiled a small, understanding smile. The host cleared his throat, and we were quickly reminded that we weren't the only ones in the restaurant.

We both ordered our drinks and exchanged pleasantries with our waiter upon receiving them (service was weirdly quick; I guess they weren't very busy that day), but an awkward silence settled over the two of us once we were left with menus. I cleared my throat.

"Sorry about Macy," I said, brushing my hair out of my eyes and keeping them firmly locked on the menu.

"Nah, it's fine. I met her beforehand anyways." Phil said. I dared to drag my eyes up to look at him and found him smiling casually at me.

"You know what you want to get?" he asked, fingers flipping through the pages of the thin menu. I glanced down and picked a sandwich at random. I nodded, and he nodded back.

"It feels like a sandwich day," he announced. I was relived he hadn't wanted an actual, spoken response. I didn't understand why I felt this way. My tongue felt heavy and dry, and everything was a bit hazy. I felt too hot and too cold all at once. My stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies.

Actually, correction: butterflies are beautiful and fluttery and sweet. What I had were fucking wasps. Is this what it's like falling in love?

 **A/N:** **So this story seems to be dragging on, and I know not much happened in this, but I can't make all the stuff I want to happen in this fic until I smooth some things out. I promise the next chapter will have more excitable content, and lately I just haven't been feeling much inspiration for this story. Things will be coming soon, though! Hope you all enjoyed!**


End file.
